The wagon hit a large bump and Annie jerked herself awake. She didn't know how long she'd been asleep--hells, she didn't know she'd even fallen asleep in the first place--but now her back and neck were killing her. What'd I do, fall asleep on a sack o' nails?

She rubbed her neck as she looked around the wagon. It was small, barely big enough for one person. A cot was in the back corner, and a small table stood out, attached to the wall. Bread and cheese were indeed on the table, as stated by the old lady. Annie's stomach rumbled, begging her to eat a taste. Although it looked appetizing, she reached into her pack and pulled out a small loaf of her own. It was stale, but it would do.

There was a window on the small door she'd entered by, and although a little light was coming through, it seemed to be quickly fading. "I wonder how much further we've got to go?" Annie asked aloud, looking out at the darkening landscape.

"Eh? What's that boch? Your looking for Jo? Ent no Jo here." The old wick in the front said loudly, guiding the kenser along the road. It was indeed starting to get dark, and with a beady glance at the sky, Maira pulled to the side of the road and stopped. Hopping down she opened the door.

"We're gonna camp here tonight. It's gettin' to dark to see out there and my old bones are aching. I'll get a fire started if you want to grab that pot there." She gestured to a metal pot sitting in the corner of the caravan, then dissapeared around the side of the caravan.

Annie looked over at the pot. "Er, sure." She wasn't sure what exactly was going to go in the pot, but she grabbed it all the same and brought it outside the wagon. It was heavier than it looked.

"So, when d'ye think we'll arrive at Dorhaven? Sometime tomorrow morning?" Annie asked Maira. "Not that I'm rushin ye or nothin, I'm just curious is all."

Annie stood there with the pot, unsure of exactly where to put it. She found a few small sticks and twigs nearby and picked them up to add to the fire later. Eh, it's better'n standin still, she thought.

Maira looked up from the circle of stones she was putting together, gesturing Annie to come over. She took the sticks from her and added them to the bundle she already had. Taking the smaller sticks and soft wood shavings, she placed them in first. One hand outstretched she quickly recited the monite for Matches and the tinder woofed into a little blaze. The old woman fed the fire twigs, sticks and finally it was strong enough to add a few good logs. Sighing she stood and took the pot off Annie, setting it directly into the side of the fire. Wiping her hands on her dress, she squinted.

"Should be there by early mornin' tomorrow, if nothin' sets us back. We'll be leavin' as soon as the sky begins to lighten." Nodding to herself, she used her dress as a protector and took the lid off the pot. Inside was a thick, rich stew of chicken, hingle and potatoes. Stirring it with a ladle she'd brought from the caravan, she thumbed at it.

"Chicken and Hingle stew if yer hungry boch. I'll let ye have some of my bread, but you ent gettin' my cheese." She scowled.

Annie watched the wick with fascination as she lit the fire using only matches. Man, all that time I learned how t'use flint 'n' steel seems wasted. I could just wave my hand and say a few syllables instead. Be far less cumbersom in my pockets. No. No more magic for her. She didn't want to become another power hungry wick who wanted freedom to use more and more. She'd seen it happen to others, and it wasn't pretty.


Annie nodded. "Early mornin'. Got it." Stepping closer to the pot, she sniffed deeply. "Hmmmm, smells great! I appreciate it."


"Er, no worries," Annie lied. "I'm, er, lactose intollerant."

Annie accepted a bowl of the stew, then sat next to the fire, eating in silence. The night was cool and silent. She looked up, admiring the sky for a bit. The stars were hardly visible in Vienda; out here, they shone like diamonds. It was a beautiful sight. She considered taking a picture, but she didn't want to startle anybody. Besides, she thought, ain't nothin can capture that sight like my own eyes.

She cleaned out her bowl with a bit of bread and set it aside. The fire crackled before her, making its presence known in the quietness. Annie cleared her throat.

"So, why ye headed to Dorhaven anyway? Ye got family there or somethin?"

The elderly wick had finished her stew and was sitting staring at the fire. Annie's voice seemed to startle her for a moment, then she remembered she had company.

"I do boch, I do." She sighed sadly. Her old hands trembled and her blue eyes became watery. She tried to speak to Annie, but it dissolved into a little sob. Getting a breath, she tried again, her bottom lip quivering.

"My little grandchildren are there. And my daughter. I don't know what I'll do if...if.." She took a shuddery breath and cried quietly.

"Little Keisy, she's only two. And her sister Bess is three. Only baby's, my poor babies." Maira sobbed into her dress. She was a hard woman, but the thought of her young grandchildren and her daughter being harmed was heartbreaking.

Annie sat there for a moment, unsure as to what to do. I love it when I put myself into an awkward situation. She got up and moved around to where the woman sat. Putting a tenative hand on her shoulder, she murmered, "It..it'll be alright. I'm sure...I'm sure they're just fine. They prolly weren't anywhere near the...er, the accident. You've got nothin t'worry about. You'll see."

She put her hands in her lap, staring at them for a moment. "Truth told, I ain't got no real family to speak of. My da's somewhere in the world and me mom's some highfalutin golly who left me to the world at birth. I was raised by a Seer who lives outside o' Dorhaven, see, an' I'm travelin to get some answers." I hope.

Silence reigned supreme over the small campfire for a moment longer before Annie yawned and stretched. The small nap she'd had in the wagon was just that: small. "Ifn ye don' mind, I'mma turn in fer the night. Let me know if you need anythin durin the night, you hear?" She got up and retrieved her pack from the wagon, taking off her blanket and spreading it out on the ground. It was a poor substitute for a mattress, but it would do. Using her coat as a blanket and her pack as a pillow, Annie curled up before the fire.

"G'night, ma'am." She said, stiffling a yawn. "See ye in the mornin."